Song of the Lionheart
by Let's Start Rumors
Summary: The Author Jack Cotter finds himself in a strange predicament: There is a doddery old man telling him that everything he is writing is from his memory, but how could that be? His stories take place thousands of years ago, in a land of magic, wonder, and war.
1. Anniversery

_There was no better person fit to be King than Arthur Pendragon. The lives of the lost took rest on his brows—hundreds of lives were taken at his hand and that wounded him. Despite injustice, they gave him strength, he held them high on his shoulders with pride. It was the least he could do for them. He was well aware of the honor he had to feel with such trust they had for him.. His chest, protected by armor, held a heart full of compassion- a heart that fought with his mind to keep order and dignity in his reign. It was a heart that swelled to reach his entire kingdom; it was one filled with mercy and the conviction that all men had it in them to do the rightful thing. On his waist there lay a sword waiting to fight for what he believed in. It was not forged for waging war, but defending dignity and justice to all the people of his kingdom. And finally, and possibly most importantly, were his eyes. The pain of his own mistakes taking innocent lives tainted them blued. Every time he failed the ocean in his irises became deeper, and emptier. But everything holds its treasures. He had walls shining sapphires implanted from the hearts of every person that had ever loved and believed in him. The darkness rose with the trust of his friends and of his people. His faith and their faith are what makes his eyes glisten. His loyalty to them and their loyalty to him are what made him a true King. He is the emissary to the greatest kingdom anyone will ever know._

"Honey, please come down stairs, it's time for dinner!"  
"Just a minute, Val, I'm just finishing this up!" the author yelled back to his wife.

_ It was early morning when he next opened his eyes-early, early morning. The sun hadn't made its way high enough in the sky to shine through the window. Normally, the king would arise just after the sun, but this morning, as well as recent mornings, had been different. He hadn't slept much in the past week or so. Something played at the back of his mind, something he couldn't identify. It was something just enough to keep him awake no matter how tired he was. There had been few time he even got—_  
"Now, Jack!"  
"Alright, fine! I'm coming!"  
_ -an hour's worth of sleep. He hadn't been able to figure out what made him so restless. He considered sorcery; he knew what an enchantment felt like, but this wasn't it-_  
"Jack! "  
"Alright, alright!" He closed his lap top and ran downstairs towards the dining room. When he entered the room, Valerie was praying. He never understood why she did it. They were never particularly religious. They only attended Sunday mass when they were with her parents. And the thing is , she always hated it as a kid when her parents made her go, or pray, yet she always prayed before she ate. He never bothered to ask why, he trusted she had her reasons and he respected that. He quietly sat down and waited for her to finish.  
"Amen," she said looking up. "Oh, there you are."  
"Sorry, I didn't want—"  
"To lose your train of thought, I know." She finished. He noticed the slight disappointment in her brown eyes. She supported every one of his endeavors, but there were times when she questioned if it was in his best interest. He served himself a salad and quietly began to munch away at it. He gradually began to notice a few small, different things about tonight. Val was wearing a new strapless, soft pink dress and a pearl necklace. She placed half of her brown curls up to the side with a white bow. Her chocolate-caramel skin glowed especially tonight. Her cheeks were painted like a delicate pink rose. He suddenly realized that, it wasn't exactly new that she was this beautiful…something about this night was different than others. It made him smile  
"You look lovely tonight," He said.  
She smiled that smile one usually did when they were flattered. He smiled back. He wondered why she had put extra care into dinner tonight. The table was set with the plates and silverware they were given on their wedding. Flowers were placed gently in the center of the table. They resembled the color of her dress. Candles were lit on either side of the flowers, carefully making the room dance with dim light….did he miss something? He thought for a moment, and immediately hated himself the moment he realized it.  
"Oh, God, I am so sorry, I forgot." He resented himself for forgetting their first wedding anniversary.  
"It's alright, you've been busy writing your book." She said not really sounding like she believed it was OK.  
"No, I am so sorry, I'm such an idiot, I'll make it up to you, I swear. I'll ev—"  
"No, really, it's fine." She said with forgiving eyes. She really meant it, "What's a year of marriage anyway?"  
That was a stab in the gut. Jack deserved it, he knew he deserved it. He had screwed up a lot in the past year—more so than in the total three years they had been together. He didn't know how to redeem himself , he didn't feel that he could say anything that would even give him a morsel of redemption. He was quiet.  
It stayed that way until they finished their salads and moved on to the roast chicken. He tried smiling at her—genuine smiles. He would always take her presence for granted and he knew it. The first few times smiling at her it obviously relieved some tension, but the more he tried to smile the more questions accompanied her eyes and the return smile. She couldn't stand it any longer. She finally decided to break the silence.  
"How is your book coming along?"  
Luckily he could tell she was genuinely interested. " I think I'm finally on the right track- this could be it."  
"Yeah? What's this one about?"  
"Um…." He hesitated trying to think of the best way to describe his wacky inspiration to her. "Well, it's about a King who relies mostly on his Servant—which just so happens to be his best friend—his wife and his knights."  
"That's a brief description, I assume?" She asked poking fun at the weak summary.  
"Well it's obviously more! I can't just tell you Spoilers and all…."  
She laughed, "Well keep me posted. How far along is it."  
"Like….two paragraphs," Val giggled at that, "what?" He laughed incredulously.  
"Nothing, nothing, I just don't understand, how can you be so confident so early in the process?"  
"I can't explain it, it's weird, you know. It's almost like it's a memory. It's as if I were writing a sort of memoir, but of course that can't be it because I am not that old, nor am I a King."  
The joke was lost at that part—but a good kind of lost. The conversation fell awkwardly after that. He probably should have kept the king part to himself, it was supposed to be funny but Val never thought so. She always hated it when he put himself down—even when it wasn't intended. Sometimes he wondered why. Jack couldn't just leave it wordless at the table. He attempted to pick the conversation back up.  
"Yeah, but what about you? How is the apprenticeship going?"  
"Well, nothing new really.… It's the same I-hate-my-job-but-I-wouldn't-trade-it-for-the-world kinds of things. She's got be doing ridiculous tasks like prepping her designs for a presentation, only for me to finish and she tells me she hates the designs and to re-do the presentation with new designs."  
"What? That's ridiculous."  
"But remember how when I first signed on for this, she promised to look at my designs? Well she's refined it a bit. She said she would actually consider them for next fall's line."  
"What's the difference?" Jack said confused.  
"Just simply looking at my designs means I lay out my portfolio in front of her and she tells me it's rubbish and I have work to do. Considering my designs, means that I lay out my portfolio in front of her and she says 'work on that, I want it displayed in the spring, but with these modifications'."  
Val took one look at Jack and realized it didn't register in his head.  
"She said she would put my designs in next fall's compilation of designs."  
And it clicked. "That's wonderful! The world needs to see your designs."  
"Oh, no, it would be nothing international- at least not at first. Plus, I would only be getting secondary credit."  
"What does that mean?"  
"It means it'll say M. Maslan on the tags and not Val Cotter."  
"How do you get credit at all then?"  
"Well, it happens with most designers. They have hoards of people that show her designs, from which she chooses some and modifies them. To the people buying my designs, it will have been from M. Maslan, but to future companies hiring designers; it will have been from Val Cotter. Does that make sense?"  
"So she gets the public credit and you the private?"  
"Yes, exactly."  
He nodded, to let her know he understood. "Do you think she'll change your designs?"  
"It's hard to say. She seems to like me a lot, but that doesn't mean she'll like my designs a lot."  
"What kinds of things were you going to present to her? You should show her that dress you showed me the one with the…what did you call it? Halter top?"  
She laughed, "No that would be a summer dress. I was thinking something on the lines of kind of… elegant. Like what you might wear to a formal evening event in the fall. I'm thinking I'll show her a few sort of ball-gown sort of things. Maybe something that would just hang from the waist you know. Something simple, elegant and graceful…kind of flowy, you know?"  
"That sounds lovely…" Jack didn't speak the language of fashion. A dress was a dress and a season was a season, he didn't understand the relationship between the two.  
"Thanks," she laughed, knowing full and well that he meant the compliment even though he was lost.  
"When will she look at your designs?"  
"Sometime in the next late spring or early summer."  
"I can't wait." He smiled, " be sure to let me know when you find out."  
The couple shared more stories about their separate lives. Many laughs and tales later—and long after they finished eating—the couple cleaned up and sat together in the living room. They sat there, Val under Jacks arm, just enjoying each other's presence. Jack ran his fingers through Val's soft hair. He inhaled her sweet smell that had stuck with her since the day he fell in love with her three years ago. He sat there thinking about how much he took her for granted. Every day she did the best she could to show her appreciation for him and in that moment he regretted every second he didn't do the same for her. He thought about every time she was there for him, there to tell him that he could do it. Since the day he married her he couldn't even count how many times he had needed her. He tried to think those three years back. He remembered how much she inspired him. Ever since he had a reason to feel love, he had been able to feel other things too. He could barely recall his life before her. How could he live 22 years in the dark, then suddenly for three years become alive only after he met her. He thought back 365 days ago when he knew he was marrying the person who made him happiest—365 days ago when for once he felt he was doing the right thing. And ever since then, he took her inspiration and love and compassion for granted. And until this day he didn't realize how much wrong he did to her by not proving to her every single day that he was drowning in gratitude for her. He vowed to make next year better. But that was too far from now. Today had to be better.  
Jack got up slowly, so Val could sit up. He walked towards the radio and smiled at her. She returned his smile with a curious undertone. He put in a CD, and Val immediately recognized what it was. Jack held out his hand to her and she took it. Val rose in front of him. They pressed their bodies close. Val's right hand went in his left hand, and her her left went on his shoulder. Jack placed his right hand on her waist. They two slowly swayed to the song Jack had dedicated to her on the day that they officially started their life together.  
_Can you feel the wind of Venus on your skin?_  
_ Can you taste the crush of the sunset's dying blush?_  
_` Stars will always hand in Summer's bleeding veils._  
Why would he choose this song? It probably had to do with its artistic nature—Jack always could identify the beauty in things. She appreciated that about him. No matter how ugly things got he could always see beauty. It wasn't that annoying optimism though, it was different. Optimism is making the best of every situation. Jack could see the world differently. He saw the broader image. He saw how beauty articulates itself into everything, whether it was good or bad.  
_ Can you feel the rings of Saturn on your finger?_  
_ Can you taste the ghosts who shed their creaking hosts? _  
_ But seas forever boil, trees will turn to soil._  
Even though the song didn't exactly make sense she knew he meant his best. He thought it was worth dedicating to her, so she knew it was done with her best interest. She relaxed and rested her head on his chest. She could vaguely hear his heart beat—slow, calm, and steady, like the gently thud of eagles wings as it soared in the sky. It was that of someone who was happy, and desired no more than to continue that moment forever. She laughed, a small laugh, inaudible to Jack. It reminded her of when she did the same thing a year ago and his heart was racing like a hummingbird's wings Oh how much things had changed.  
` _Stars will always hand in Summer's bleeding veils._  
She felt his fluent, perpetual breath. As his chest lightly rose and fell she let her eyes close. She was so proud of him. When she first married him he was just a prince destined to be King. She saw all the potential he had. She could see that he had the ability to accomplish, and achieve so many things, and here he was accomplishing and achieving them. He wasn't yet a King, but he was no longer the boy she married. He was growing and she could see it as bright as day. Her heart swelled when she saw how much he had diverged from his younger, more naive self. It was amazing to know that she had helped him in trying to become this new man. She could so easily forgive him for forgetting this day. It meant nothing compared to how much she could see was coming. She loved him so much, and to know she made a difference meant more than any boring annual celebration of the love they shared every day. She forgave him for every moment he didn't display his gratitude. She forgave him for every time he was more focused on his work more than her because she knew, in the end, all that mattered was them. She knew that in his hear she mattered most to him—she didn't need daily proof of that.

_But seas forever boil, trees will turn to soil._

No matter how little he showed her, she always knew that they shared something that couldn't be broken.  
The song ended and the couple stopped moving. They stayed holding each other for a long while in silence. There was a kind of silent conversation happening between their bodies. They shared a mutual thought; nothing mattered but this. They both knew that no matter what happened they could always return to each other at the end of the day and feel this. Even if the world was ending, they knew they could hold each other and get through it, happily. They could be together and the uncertainty of another day couldn't scathe them.  
Val looked up at him, into his eyes. She immediately saw the man she first met on the way to work three years ago. His eyes were so young, kind and full of compassion. She saw darkness, though too, and something drew her to that. She remembered the courage he had, how brave he was. How she had known he held so much inside him, she might never know. A small fragile smile came across his face, telling her that Jack was remember the same moment when he first looked into her eyes.  
Jack kissed her forehead, "I love you"

The couple knew the romance had to end for tonight. Despite how much love they had for each other, they still had deadlines to attend to. Val pulled out her sketch book and Jack got his computer to write some more.

_The King felt resilient to tell anyone about his peculiar sleeping habits. He considered talking to Gaius but simply couldn't think of an instance where he would have time to do so. He sat in bed thinking about his day—it seemed rather uneventful from what he could remember. There had to be more…. He could remember that he promised to talk to some people about supposed problems they've been having….there were preparations to be made for King Bayard's arrival tomorrow… that wasn't it though…what else was there? Arthur tried thinking hard—it was impossible though. As tired as he was it was a waste of energy to focus on such things. His body was working endlessly trying to work for days at a time without rest. He hated being like this. How can someone be a King with so little of a present mind?_  
_Again, thinking was too difficult. Arthur let his mind clear—which took effort. Everything took effort. Every single little thing was becoming a hardship. He needed to figure out how to be cured of this. As a knight, and a King he needed to be strong. Weakness was not in the job description. He vowed to do what he could to solve the problem today._  
_He lay in been a while longer and a while later the sun shown bright through the windows._  
_"Good morning sire!" Merlin said walking joyfully into the room with a plate of food in his hand._  
_"Hello Merlin." He got up and sat on the edge of the bed. He put his forehead in his hands._  
_"I have your breakfast"_  
_"Could you just set it on the table?"_  
_Merlin, obediently did just that. "Is there anything I can—" he looked at Arthur's exhausted figure. Magic stirred up inside him It was so much that it caught him off guard and he felt nauseous. He had to blink away the dizziness in his head before Arthur noticed . Something was up. "Are you alright?"_  
_"I'm fine, Merlin." He never felt the need to lie to Merlin before._  
_"You look exhausted."_  
_"I just woke up you clotpole."_  
_Merlin decided to let it go for now. "Sorry, sire."_  
_Arthur would have thrown another retort at Merlin, but, again, it required more energy than his body was willing to give up. "I need you to see to it that everything is getting for Bayard's return—it needs to be perfect after what happened last time."_  
_"Of course. Anything else?"_  
_"Yes, When are those townspeople coming?"_  
_"I suspect soon, but is there anything else?" Merlin said, obviously implying that he was missing something._  
_"What?"_  
_"You promised Gwen you would go on a picnic with her today."_  
_Arthur sighed, "Right." Arthur was immediately angry for forgetting. "Thank you. Make sure our lunch is prepared and ready to go by noon."_  
_"Yes, Sire." Merlin bowed and walked out._  
_Arthur quickly got dressed, eager to get to Gaius before he had to be in the court room. Despite his determination, the medial task seemed tiring and painstaking. How long would this last? Arthur didn't hesitate to get to the court Physician. He tried to look normal as he walked. The castle was buzzing with such intense plans following. Here and there he received good-morning-sire's and bows. He calmly returned the favor and kept moving. He wished he would hurry and get there. He hustled around the corner expecting the door to his chamber. When he found he was in the wrong place he gave himself a mental slap in the face. Get it together, he thought. He wandered a while, checking on guard post, to make it seem normal. It took him way longer than he expected to find the Physician. He had been in the castle his entire life, but he forgot how to get around. Arthur panicked for a split second then he found the door he was looking for._  
_He knocked on the door, rather impatiently, Gaius opened the door half-expecting Arthur, but not for the reason Arthur was there._  
_"Oh hello, your highness, come in."_  
_"Good Morning, Gaius." Arthur said walking in. He unexpectedly saw Gwen._  
_"Hello, Arthur," Gwen said smiling._  
_"Morning," he bowed to his wife. "What are you doing here?"_  
_"Oh, I just had a little headache, I just came to ask Gaius for a remedy." The physician was back at his table of gizmos and potion, fidgeting with various herbs._  
_"I'll have that ready in just a moment, my lady" Said Gaius. "Arthur, what can I do for you?"_  
_I need to talk to you, about tomorrow night."_  
_"Yes, yes, of course. He popped a cork into the little bottle and gave it to Gwen. "This should help"_  
_"Thank you, I'll go ahead and leave you to your official duties" she nodded at Arthur, walked past him and out the door._  
_Arthur waited a moment after the door clicked. "Please, come, sit." Gaius said. Normally Arthur would have refused, his body made him sit. "What matters do you wish to discuss?"_  
_ "There's something wrong with me Gaius"_  
_ "Why do you say that?"_  
_ Arthur took in a deep breath, just now realizing he didn't want to tell Gaius. He didn't want to tell anyone. He didn't know why, he just knew he didn't want to tell a soul. He had to think of a quick lie—one Gaius would believe. "I haven't been able to focus …" Arthur was never good at lying._  
_ Gaius saw right through it, "A-ha, what is it really?_  
_ Arthur was determined to keep his insomnia to himself—besides his life wasn't entirely false. "I'm serious, I haven't been able to stay focused. I am getting distracted easily , I can't get anything done."_  
_ The physician was skeptical. " your highness, if you are not being entirely honest I may misdiagnose you, and that could be dangerous."_  
_ Arthur sighed again, he could never lie to Gaius, especially this mentally inept. He still hesitated before telling Gaius, but Gaius did that thing with his eyebrows, and it got him to tell the truth. " I haven't been myself lately, as you may have noticed, it's because I have been getting practically no sleep—I think I'm beginning to lose my memory. Simple tasks take unbelievable amounts of energy and I find myself having trouble doing the most simple things. I'm exhausted, I can't think properly….I can't function the way a King needs to function."_  
_ Gaius nodded and assessed for a moment, "When you sleep, do you have nightmares?"_  
_ "None that I can recall. Why?... Could this be magic?"_  
_ "It's possible, but I doubt it. This is not unnatural. I've dealt with many occasions similar to this."_  
_ "Can you cure it?"_  
_ Gaius took a moment._  
_ "Gaius?"_  
_ "Well, something like this is complicated. The insomnia, memory loss and weakness may all be symptoms of something entirely different. I cannot identify what it is though with your mind and body so warn down. I can give you a remedy to help you sleep tonight and so forth until you are restored, then we can find out what it is._  
_ "Do you know what it might be?"_  
_ "Without you being caught up on sleep, it's hard to say, there is a number of things it could be. It could also be physical anxiety, which is just as curable as most other things."_  
_ "Most?"_  
_ "It's nothing to worry about, si-"_  
_ The door burst open, "Gaius have you see—Oh Arthur." Merlin smiled. "You're needed in the court room."_  
_ "Thank you, Merlin" he nodded and stood, "Gaius I'll expect it tonight?"_  
_ "Yes, of course."_  
_ "Merlin," he nodded. Merlin returned the gesture._  
_ Gaius waited a moment to make sure Arthur was out of earshot. "Have you noticed anything strange about Arthur?"_  
_ "I actually came to talk to you about that. This morning he seemed much more exhausted than usual, same for the past few days, but it was worse this morning."_  
_ "He said he hasn't been able to sleep. Is there anything else."_  
_ Merlin debated about telling Gaius about his rush of magic when he saw Arthur this morning. Gaius knew more about the combination of health and magic than anyone else Merlin knew, but he still hesitated._  
_ "Merlin, what is it?"_  
_ He decided it was best to tell Gaius. "This morning when I brought Arthur breakfast, I could feel magic coming off of him. It was strong magic, magic that was planted inside him…Whatever is being used here is inside him."_

Jack saved his chapter, closed his lap top and he and Val went to bed.

_**Notes:**__** Hey guys! Thanks for reading this! This is my first Merlin Fanfiction and I think it's going OK? Is it? Reviews are always good. How are the characters? Anyway! That song that I put in is called "Sea of Teeth" and it's by Sparklehorse, you should check it out, it's really pretty. **_


	2. Heavy Mind

**The truth hides  
behind a mask  
that you have seen before  
that you have known before**

The truth hides  
before your eyes  
with a face you trust so much  
with a smile you loved so much.

Jack woke up soon after Val jumped in the shower, as he usually did. He went downstairs to make tea and breakfast. He set water to boil and went on the hunt for cereal. He checked the cabinets and quickly realized that cereal wasn't actually a "please forgive me" kind of breakfast. He needed to redeem himself today after yesterday. Jack searched the entire kitchen for something that would be quick to make but was better than cereal, and didn't have four billion calories...

He stood staring in the fridge for a decent amount of time before he heard the shower shut off upstairs. He knew he had about half an hour to figure out what to make. He panicked a little bit-he never could prepare an actual meal. He could cut fresh apples and put them in her cereal? No bananas. No... pineapples? No...strawberries? No, what's that one berry thing? He thought a moment, getting a little bit more nervous every minute less he had to prepare it.

Oh! Raspberries! But not in cereal...

Jack checked the freezer-yes! frozen waffles! It'll have to do.

He grabbed the waffles like they were his life and practically slam-dunked them into the toaster. He got out the Raspberries and syrup. Whipped cream? No- calories. OK. He buttered the waffles, when they popped out of the toaster and threw them on a plate, haphazardly throwing on the berries. He set the table as quickly as he could-napkins, silverware, tea, waffles...flowers-it needed flowers. He ran outside and quickly pulled some flowers out of the garden-close enough. He put them in the first glass he saw and placed them on the center of the table and sat down.

As if on que, Val walked down the stairs "Honey, have you seen my- Oh what's this?"

"Um.. Step one of Operation-Apologize."

"I told you, Jack, it really is all right." She said coming and sitting at the table.

"I know, but still, I want to make it up to you-nothing you say will make me change my mind!" he smiled.

She laughed, "Alright, alright!Just don't spend the entire day giving me sugary things today, yeah? I've got an 'Annual Fashion Ball' coming up."

Jack nodded and smiled.

Val ate her breakfast and spared no time getting out the door. Before she left Jack kissed her and waved goodbye as her car pulled out of the driveway. It wasn't long after that Jack realized how he had absolutely no plan for the day, nor did he have a plan for "Operation-Apologize."

He ate some cereal for breakfast (he hadn't made any waffles for himself-didn't have time), finished his tea, and read some of the news. It was mostly boring articles and surveys-nothing that really interested him so he gave up. He decided he would go for his "usual" morning jog. ("usual" was just something he told himself so he wouldn't feel bad about not running every morning.)

It had been a few days since he last went on his jog-he realized he missed the pleasant pathway on which he ran. It was usually bright, vibrant, and lush with color, but as summer became fall the colors began to soothe themselves. He always thought that the eye-bursting color in the spring and summer were like the skin after you were out in too cold too long: red and blochy. In that transition between fall and summer it was the kind of color when the skin was beginning to warm and go back to it's normal color, yet it wasn't quite dull yet. It was warm enough to feel like summer but pale enough to feel like winter. Its actually pretty lucky for him that it wasn't raining-well at least yet. There was that kind of dusty smell in the air that you had right before rainfall. It was like nature's way of saying "hey, we're going to rain now, if you need to, find shelter." He loved the way nature communicated. Nature was brilliant and, as a whole, probably the most intelligent entity to ever exist. Nature is a functioning cycle, only working to benefit her inhabitants-which she also created to protect others. She really was "Mother Nature" and all of her children have a purpose that she thoughtfully created for them. Whether it were big or small, they mattered nonetheless, and she did everything to help and bring about joy in everything.

After jack ran a few miles, he found himself sitting on a bench next to a delicate looking old man with a beard. He had long white hair and you could tell he was living with a lot of weight on his back. He was wearing a light, tattered brown suit, an abused, old red vest and a blue scarf. He sat with a black umbrella over his head-even though it still wasn't raining yet. The old man pleasantly stared off into the space in front of him.

Jack realized that he saw him every time he jogged. He never took much notice in him, but he must have been here ever morning. What would he want to come out here for every morning? Jack genuinely tossed around ideas, but one struck him as fact: maybe he shared the same fondness of nature that jack did. Right as the thought came Jack wanted to discuss ideas and thoughts-but then he realized just how awkward that would be; "Hello sir, I've figured out due process that you come here every morning to watch nature, I love nature, let's talk about it!"

Instead Jack kept quiet, caught his breath, and went on the jog back home.

When he got back to the house he stepped inside and grabbed the bottle of water that was waiting for him on the bench. He whipped around when he heard a voice. It was a voice he genuinely never thought he'd hear again-he wished he could keep it that way.

"Hello, son!"

**_Notes:_****_ Yes, I'm very much aware that this chapter is very short and I'm sorry! I There was a lot I wanted to accomplish here but with out a whole bunch of fluff. Thank you thank you so so much for reading and you're beautiful and I love you! Even though it's a short chapter, reviews are always accepted with gratitude and happiness. And you can also ask questions if this isn't making sense somehow or something, but again thank you so much for reading!_**


	3. A Spoonful Weighs a Ton

"Hello son!" The figure stood up from the chair in the living room and walked towards Jack with his right hand out, welcoming him to shake it. Jack looked at it a moment and kept his hands and his side. He was still breathing heavy, and his heart was still pounding-it seemed to be the loudest sound in the room. The man's face was lit up, happy to see his son, whereas Jack was just the opposite. Jack intentionally avoided eye contact, not out of fear, but as a sheer sign of disrespect-the man didn't deserve it.

"How did you get inside?"

His hand was still out in the air waiting for Jack to take it. He finally gave up and put it down. "I used a key."

"We never gave you a key."

"I'm sure you did."

"I'm sure I didn't."

"Why are you acting like you don't want me here."

Jack walked to the kitchen to get something to eat. "I made it very clear, Victor. We don't want you and your troubles here."

"Do you even know why I'm here?" Victor walked in the kitchen with him

"No and I don't care,"

"Even if it's to say offer you someth-"

Jack shot his eyes at Victor, if you were standing between the two men you might break in half from the tension. Jack closed the space between them, making it that much easier to threaten the man he once called father. " I want _nothing_ from you. The _only_ thing I will ever ask of you is to leave. us. alone. Now, I know I have made it clear you are not welcome here. Choose your next words carefully, and I might not throw you out right away."

Victor stayed calmed and thought, takinging Jacks threat very seriously. Jack almost felt bad treating his own blood with such discontent, but it was disgusting to have the same blood as Victor. He wanted nothing more than money and fortune and fame. Jack truly believed his mother left because of Victor. That still hurt him, because Victory fucked up so much, it robbed him of his mother. That was like killing him slowly. There were times when he thought out how to find her and bring her back, he was too young to remember anything about her so it was nearly impossible. This made him blame himself for countless nights. When he was young, Jack thought,_ If I were older, I could have talked her into staying, but I didn't, I could have helped, but I didn't._ It was nonsense really because he could barely talk when his mother left, but nonetheless he felt that way for a long time, and he suffered for his father-and he hated his "father" for letting Jack blame himself.

"Valerie." Victors deep voice whipped her name. Jack didn't like the way it sounding coming out of his mouth. It's like he knew something Jack didn't-Victor had the advantage, Jack was losing. Jack didn't like losing to the bad blooded man.

"What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything."

"Then what do you want with her?"

"Nothing."

Jack looked at him with distrust. There was some truthiness missing from Victors words.

"Do you want what's best for Valerie, or what's best for you?"

That was a stab in the back. Jack was really pissed at this point and there was only one thing he wanted more than to kick out Victor: the truth.

"Get to it, Vick, I'm running out of patience."

"I didn't teach you to be so disrespectful. You will back off and apologize."

Jack took a moment debating. When he realized the man wouldn't continue until he obeyed, he backed off and apologized.

"Thank you. Now, please sit." Jack obeyed.

Tension was still there and Victor was just dancing on the string. Jack was so wound up inside he could barely breathe properly. He didn't want to hear a word from his father, but he currently had no choice.

"I'm willing to make you an offer, if you are willing to work with me."

That wasn't a question.

"But first, I would like to know something. I have given you many opportunities to be far more successful than what you have given yourself here. Why would you choose to live this way?"

Jack took offense to that. he didn't want to answer, he had no reason to answer to Victor. He bit his tongue holding back comments defending his chosen standard of living. He needed to reply, Victor wouldn't leave until he was satisfied. But Jack knew that if he spoke one word it would be jumbled and twisted. He took a moment to calm himself. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes for just a second and exhaled. He relaxed his muscles, but still kept his mind on guard.

"Being_ rich_ is_ not_ being_ successfu_l."Jack finally said.

Victor leaned back in his chair, "Ah, you're worried about_ happiness_. Let me enlighten you son, Money is happiness. What you are living, is just boyish nonsense! You're married to her, for God's sake! I didn't raise you to think that living in a tiny house having tea parties and writing of all things, is the way to live. You listen closely son, I will _not_ let_ my own blood_ live and fail like this. I have prepared for you an an offer you cannot refuse, because I care about you."

As much effort as he put into calming down, it didn't matter. He was immediately fired up inside again. _Care about me?_ He thought. _He doesn't care about anything but nurturing his money and defending the family lineage_. There were even times when he tried to choose Jack's friends and even girlfriends. It was disgusting to him that he would come back after all these years having been gone and being so...bombastic. How _dare_ he call him a failure, how _dare_ he claim to have the same blood, how _dare_ he call him son.

Jack stood. "You need to get out of my house right now. You don't belong here, your offers don't belong here. You can't just come into my house, insult my wife, and 'change' my life. I have had enough of you! You may have the money here, but you do not have the power to convince me that whatever life you want me to live is better than what I have. I have everything, Victor, I have everything that you could never have and you hate it. You hate that it's your fault mom left-"

Victor jumped up and yelled. "I will NOT be disrespected! You will apologize this instant!"  
"NO!" Jack yelled back, "You-"  
"Your mother left because she couldn't stand raising a son! I raised you the best I could and this is what I get?"  
"Mother left because you were a greedy and had nothing but avarice inside of you! You didn't raise me! You _poisoned_ me! You ruined me for years! You tried to make me heartless like you! And I will never become that!"  
That left Victor silent. In no way did he agree with Jack, but he most certainly had no idea what to say. Jacked breathed heavily and sat back down keeping an eye on Victor, who was staring at nothing. After a few minutes of silence, Victor pulled an envelope out of his pocket and threw it on the table. After that he turned around and left.

Jack stared at the envelope for a long time wondering whether or not to open didn't have a clue as to what could possibly be inside. He thought maybe money, but that would be out of character for his dad to discreetly leave money. Maybe it was a bill of some sort, or maybe another of his dad's grimy offers...He just couldn't be sure-there was only one way to find out what it was.

Jack picked up the envelope and pulled out it's contents: Money, and a letter, and some official document. Jack set aside the money and the document and read the letter.

**If you're reading this, then our conversation didn't go well. It is very important that you read this carefully. There is a lot of information I wish to give you, but first, you need to know that these things are confidential-you must tell no one. One of the things I have to tell you has been kept secret since you were born, and I cannot stress how important it is that you and I are the only ones that know of it.**

**First and foremost, as you know, I am not as young as I used to be. I cannot run my business forever, I'm going to need someone to take over my position when the time comes. I am asking that you would let me teach you how to do it. If you take up this position you will be rich and powerful beyond your imagination-you could finally be a success. Think about how much you could provide for a wife and family? Speaking of which, Valerie will only bring you down, I have begged you countless times to leave her but I have learned you will just ignore my wise advice, but I do ask this one thing; if you do pursue this life I have set in front of you, for you, you will keep her a secret.**

**I know this request detours you but you mustn't let it. It would ruin my business and eventually your life if you do not take my advice when running the company.**

**If you should decide to reply, please do so as immediately as possible.**

**Second, you won't believe, but it's true nonetheless. Your mother contacted me. I don't know how. It's been 27 years since I last heard from her. But in the brief conversation she told me to be sure to let you know she is "proud" of you and that she loves you.**

**I am just keeping a promise- don't think that I would say the exact same.**

**Lastly I wish to tell you the most important part of this letter. This is the information that must truly remain confidential. You mustn't tell a single soul. You have a half sister, Jack. Before you were born, your mother and I continuously tried to have a child. Sometimes, nothing would happen and others she had a miscarriage-she could not conceive from what we could tell. You must know that I am confessing to something I have never previously mentioned. One night, your mother and I got in a fight about her not being able to conceive a child. That night I went out to a bar to cool down, and, I am not proud, I had an affair with another woman. I didn't tell your mother, and a few weeks later I got a phonecall from that woman and she told me she was pregnant. I about panicked. What made it worse, is your mother had the same news. I managed to keep it a secret from your mother, and sent money to the other woman for about a year, until it was no longer avoidable. Your mother found out, but didn't leave because she knew she couldn't take care of you by herself. We stayed together, and agreed to still send money to the other woman. Your mother, having the kind heart that she did, befriended the woman, and they became very close. Her name was Michelle, the other woman. Michelle went into labor only a few weeks before your mother, but unfortunately, Michelle didn't make it through, leaving a motherless little baby girl. Your own mother saw this and couldn't bear it. She let her join the family. When you were born things got complicated, we tried raising you to together but your mother and I began to fight more and more and about a year after you were born she took the child and left.**

**You have a half sister. Your mother refused to tell me who she is. I haven't seen her, or anyone that could possibly be her since she left. I don't even know where your mother is now; she came out of nowhere then disappeared. She told me to tell you this as well.**

That was the entire letter. That's where it ended. There wasn't a "sincerely Victor." There was no "p.s." Nothing. Jack sat there with the letter in his hand clueless as to what to do or think. At first he thought his father was lying-it wouldn't be the first time. It didn't make any sense. Why would his mother choose another person's child over her own son? Why would she go to Victor and not him? His whole life he desperately wanted to know his mother, she must have known that. Why would she not want to see him?

It seemed logical for a while that his father was telling a lie but there was just one problem, he couldn't figure out for the life of him why his father would lie. There was the possibility that he was trying to make his own mother look bad so Jack would be on the side of his father again; that way Jack would be more willing to take the would never happen though, he was happy just the way he he truly needed some successor, he had plenty of employees, he would hire one.

But that still explained nothing. He could accept that they took in another child, he could accept that his parents split up, but what you could not, for the life of him, accept was that his mother would not only run out to never be seen again by them and that she had chosen between her own blood and some unfaithful woman's child.

Jack didn't want to think of this Michelle that way, but right away he began to lodge a small hatred for her inside of himself not matter how logically he told himself not to. He couldn't stop himself from feeling like all his life was taken away by one faceless, deceased woman. At the same time though he blamed Victor. He never knew why his mother had left, and this had only filled him in a little bit. What made his mother so angry and upset that she had to love him, and Jack, for good? What did Victor do that made her and his half-sister's escape more important than keeping a family together?

None of it really made sense. everything he thought became a question. He would try to reason something out but he would rule it out the second he thought it with questions.

It was about 2:00 now, and he really needed to let this out of his mind. He tucked away the note from his father in a drawer that he would hopefully forget. He remembered that he need to work out "operation-apologize" before Val got home. He wasn't even sure of what it even was. He was sure, though, that roses and chocolates would be insufficient for it's purpose. What about a sappy card and poem? That plus dinner might work...

It's not that he didn't want to make it up to her, because he certainly did, but he couldn't get his mind where it was this morning. This morning during his jog he felt so creatively rejuvenated, but after the incident with his father, he couldn't find the mental state do do anything productive. He felt his day just be struck useless.

He tried dishing out a few rough drafts of a poem for Val, and that failed. He even tried to write a bit more of his book, but that wasn't even worth keeping. He hated being uninspired. He would just spend hours doing who-knows-what on his computer and re-arranging miscellaneous things in the house. It was quite empty and boring the entire day until Val came home.


	4. Black Birdies Come

The next day Jack tried to explain the previous days endeavors to Val.. He kept the thing about his half sister a secret as his father asked him to. To be honest, he didn't want to tell Val about what happened with his mother. He wasn't sure that telling her was the proper way of dealing with it? He knew she would find a million and one reasons why it wasn't his fault, but frankly he didn't want to be told it wasn't his fault, he wanted to be told it why she left.

With this new news of his half sister of course it brought up those old thoughts of blaming himself. He found out that not only was it a fight between Ygraine and Uther, but he found out when she had left she chose to take only one child, and not even her own child.

That hurt.

That is what he wanted to know.

Why in the world would the woman he revered choose someone else? Maybe she just resented him. He had heard of that happening. What if his beautiful mother was a woman who would hate the life she carried inside of her for nine months? That somehow made it his fault, didn't it?

Nonetheless that was something he wouldn't tell Val, so he just left that out entirely.

After he had told Val that his father sent him a letter (he didn't tell her about Uther physically coming over, that would just worry her.) Val got ready and left to do some kind of "extracurruicular"-as she called it-fashion things. He didn't mind because it was long since he needed to get back to his writing.

_He decided it was best to tell Gaius. "This morning when I brought Arthur breakfast, I could feel magic coming off of him. It was strong magic, magic that was planted inside him…Whatever is being used here is inside him."_

_"Merlin, are you sure?" Gaius replied with concern suddenly rising in his face._

_"Yes."_

_"How do you know it's not just an enchan-"_

_"Gaius, It's some sort of...poultice or...I don't know how to explain it. I don't think its very tangible per say "_

_"You're not making sense."_

_"I think there's a sort of curse on him but it's not like an enchantment that just changes how he feels and acts. I think it might be some sort of..."_

_What was the word? What was the god forsaken word he was looking for? Did it even exist? He hadn't read anything in the books to seem so, but there are still tons of things he doesn't know._

_"parasite." He finally said but that wasn't exactly what he was looking for._

_"How do you mean by intangible?"_

_"I mean I don't think it's an actually beast or Fimmorah or something of the like, It's some sort of ...living...hoard of magic that drains his energy."_

_"How can you get all that from just a feeling?"_

_Merlin didn't respond for a couple seconds then shrugged. "Can you think of anything that might be better?"_

_Gaius also waited to respond, "Not for now, I'll do some research while you set out your duties. So go on, keep an eye on him and I'll see what I can find."_

_Merlin continued on with his duties for the day and prepared for Arthur's picnic with Gwen. After the food was prepared he and Arthur went out to set up in a small clearing in the woods._

_"Merlin, hand me the blankets."_

_Merlin did so but fumbling some because he was carrying far more than one lanky small servant should._

_"Pillows" Arthur was kneeling on the ground pulling the corners of the blanket away. It only made the dark haired servant think about how not long ago Arthur would never do such a thing. He smiled at that. He wasn't going to hide it from himself; he was very proud of what arthur had become, sure he had a long way to go but the first steps are always the hardest, and essentially the most important. Just think about the first time they had met; Merlin was a stupid kid trying to stand up against the biggest prat-who-could-get-away-with-it. Merlin laughed._

_"Are you incompetent? Hand me the pillows!"_

_Merlin shook our of his reminicing, "Sorry sire"_

_He arranged the pillows slowly one by one, far more meticulously than Merlin thought Arthur would care. He got easily frustrated when they didn't look perfect so he would just throw them all which way and start over again. The servant took note of the extremely peculiar behavior. His concern grew when they began setting our the food . Arthur spent about 15 minutes organizing the bowl of fruit. He wouldn't stop untill each thing looked absolutely perfect-he cursed himself when it didn't._

_It was almost like he was challenging himself to make it perfect. it seemed like there were two players at hand: one that couldn't care less what it looked like and just wanted to rest and another that wanted to do the exact opposite. Merlin just watching in bewilderment and concern. He no longer felt that this picnic was for Gwen-whom he had yet to retrieve._

_"Sire,"_

_"What?" The king said not breaking his concentration as he fidgeted with a piece of bread._

_"It's been over an hour since we left, Gwen is probably waiting."_

_Arthur looked up at him as if he had no idea what he was talking about. "I've been gone for longer time, she will not worry."_

_Arthur moved on to picking at some weird brownish coloured substance on the blanket._

_"Sire?" Merlin bent his neck down and forward in attempt to look at the Kings frantically distracted face._

_"What Merlin?" he sounded irritated._

_"Why are we here?"_

_"Merlin, you dollophead, do you really not know?"_

_Merlin shrugged, pretending to be clueless._

_Arthur opened his mouth to answer his original question, but he realized he didn't know the answer._

_Once he notice that he even failed to know why there were here he frantically stared at Merlin for the answer._  
_The serving boy couldn't stop the look from slapping him. He had never seen the king so helpless before. He was helpless against himself. He had become so fragile and he had no idea what was happening to him. "Arthur, are you alright?"_  
_"I-I...Merlin why can't I remember?" Arthur picked up one of the pillows and sat criss-cross hugging the pillow, staring blankly towards Merlin._  
_He didn't like seeing Arthur this way-not one bit. He inched closer to Arthur to look at his eyes. Gaius taught him a thing or two about some things. When he looked into the blue irises he felt that magic from before stir inside of him-and not in a pleasant way. It was strong. It was like someone stuck him a jar and shook it up. He was taken aback by it-he had flinched a bit. _  
_"What's wrong?" Arthur asked staring at Merlin, who was now looking him over for any sort of sign a magical object at all. _  
_"I think we need to get you back to Gaius."_  
_Arthur objected to that entirely. "No no no! You didn't even tell me why we were here! Why do I have all this stuff?"_  
_Merlin ignored his panicked cries and began packing his things up._  
_"Merlin! You tell me what's going on this instant!"_  
_He continued to put the food back in the basket, but Arthur snatched up his wrist , Merlin stared at him with definite fear. He had never seen the king so genuinely furious-especially at him._

**"Merlin. I am your master and your KING. You will tell me what is going on or swear you'll regret ever being born!"**

_Merlin said nothing and just stared with confusion and fear still pouring out of his eyes. Arthur saw a small uncontained tear come from Merlin. Merlin hated himself the moment he felt the tear and looked away. Arthur immediately snapped out of whatever anger-driven trance he was in and let go of Merlin. He was shocked with himself. How could he hurt Merlin? And for something so stupid? _  
_"M-merlin I'm sorry. Here-" He began to clean up things as well... it went slowly for some reason. Silence crept it's way in and so did tension. Merlin hadn't said anything yet. He was too busy worrying about Arthur. It wasn't like him to be so aggressive, so forgetful, so obsessive-compulsive..._  
_Something was seriously wrong, and it broke Merlin's heart not having a clue what it was. _

___

_When they got back to Camelot Merlin immediately escorted Arthur to his chambers and went off to get Gaius. On the way back Arthur had been hit by the wave of exhaustion that had plagued him for days now and wasn't sure he could even stand anymore. His whole body trembled. Just holding a hand up consumed all of his energy. Arthur closed his eyes and focused his energy on breathing. It was heavy, short, and certainly not in a healthy rhythm. That itching in the back of his mind returned. That unidentified thought that danced around hitting the walls of his thoughts:racing around playing tag with his ideas but wearing a mask. It was like that one lingering idea that you just couldn't put your finger on but it was 10 times stronger. _  
_When Merlin returned Gaius and Gwen followed him in right after. Gwen went at set next to him with love and concern painted across her face. "Oh Arthur" He heard her say as he felt her slender gentle hands pet his hair. He still had his eyes closed in attempt to preserve whatever energy he had left. He was like a battery running on nothing-it was only a matter of time before he could no longer supply the energy needed to breathe._  
_He began to go numb. He only felt the pressure of touch. It was like when you wear thick rubber gloves that stuck to your hand and you pick and probe at it. He stopped hearing things. In fact he stopped everything but breathing and vague, brief thoughts. _  
_Time went on; perhaps it went on for a few seconds or perhaps a few hours, he couldn't tell. But suddenly he was asleep. He couldn't have been more grateful, and he had welcomed it. _

_What arthur didn't know is that he had fell into the slumber of a man that never woke up again. _


	5. Sleep Spell

_Merlin panicked when Arthur didn't wake up. He tried to keep it to himself as much as he could. Gaius was unsure of what was happening. He determined that Arthur was still alive-but barely. He was still breathing but far too lightly for anyone to be comfortable with. Arthur was so still. He could have been dead to anyone who didn't know better. Color began to secede from his skin. His usual golden aura was disappearing. He looked almost ghostly._

_The worst part was that Merlin _knew_ this was magic. From the moment Arthur Fell asleep magic just burst and it felt like his insides were scorching to a crisp. _

_He knew this was magic and he had no idea what he could do about it, nor did he even know who was doing it. The servant knew that he had to get down to finding some answers if he ever wanted to see his king alive again._

_Gwen had sat with Arthur for hours into the night until she was finally convince to sleep elsewhere. (Gaius had told her it could be contagious and that she wouldn't want to get it-Both Merlin and Gaius knew it would never affect her but who knew what Arthur could do?)_

_Once Gwen was gone, Gaius told Merlin it would be best for Arthur to guarded by someone who was ...equipped...with the right abilities to protect Arthur. Merlin nodded, keeping to himself that he couldn't stand to leave Arthur if he had to. At first he just sat in a chair at Arthurs dining table, but then after a while of contemplation he realized someone could just swoop in the window and gain advantage, thus threatening the king. _

_So he sat closer. Merlin pulled a chair up right next to Arthur's bed. He sat there for a while, satisfied with his choice. He listened more carefully than he ever had before. He heard nothing but Arthur's slow, quiet, uneven breathing. There were a few times when it was so quiet the Merlin thought that maybe he was hallucinating his breathe and he had died. In those moments Merlin practically fell on top of Arthur to check his breathing. _

_Being so close to him was almost numbing from whatever magic had been implanted inside of him._

_Perhaps he was worrying to much. Perhaps it was just Arthur finally being able to sleep and it was his body refusing to wake up until he was completely rested. Merlin tried to tell himself that whatever it was he would figure it out and save Arthur. He always did. He could never not save Arthur. It wasn't in anyone's destiny to die here or like this. This was just a fowl hand dealt to Arthur, not the death penalty. He would get through-_

_"M-Merlin.." The serving boy jumped out of his skin when he heard the small mumble. He was about to run and get Gaius when he realized the figure hadn't actually woken. His heart sank._

_But that was a good sign he wasn't brain-dead wasn't it?_

_Could he hear Merlin?_

_"Arthur." It was worth a shot._

_"..."_

_"I know you can't respond because you're sleeping, but if you can hear me, please...stay alive. I know you're tired, but I know you have it in you to get through this. I will find a way to save you, you just need to hang in there. Please...please just...Stay alive."_

_Merlin released a shaky breath and blinked away some tears he knew were swelling in his eyes. Silence followed the plea. Several minutes of it actually. _

_It was dark. It until then that Merlin realized that silence and darkness could make a person go crazy. He wanted Arthur to wake up and smile and say "you should have seen your faces!" He wanted Arthur to just pop up and say "BOO!" and start laughing at Merlin's frightened face. But that just wasn't happening. It was like when you brace yourself for something and it never comes. At the least Merlin wished he would say his name again-anyone's name-something to tell him that he was still alive inside of this shell. _

_That's what he was. A shell._

_He was cold and grey as moonlight._

_He was as motionless as the stars._

_The worst though, what Merlin hated most, was his silence. He was quiet like the secret that was never told. _

_For those next few minutes Merlin held his head only inches from Arthur's face just to still hear him inhale and exhale. He almost stopped breathing himself in ordered to hear Arthur._

_"Merlin..." Arthur said again and this time Merlin yelped, but immediately grabbed his mouth to shut himself up. He waited a second with his hand over his mouth, still upright from the shock._

_"Arthur?"_

_Still no response. He put his hand back in his lap but didn't quite let himself lean into Arthur again. He held his breath, hoping that maybe, just maybe, Arthur was conscious. He waited staring eagerly and the still figure. _

_It occurred to Merlin that perhaps Arthur _could_ hear him but just could not respond. He thought he heard Gaius saying that was a possibility. _

No that would be silly, _Thought Merlin._

_But still. he couldn't pass up the opportunity that Arthur might just be able to hear him. He had to say something, It was better than silence. Even if it was just to make them both feel less lonely._

_Merlin exhaled and inhaled, taking in a big gust of air in hopes of it being enough for such pointless words that were about to come._

_"Arthur..."_

_He waited a moment, like he expected him to respond-old habits die hard, I guess._

_"if you w-no wait-um...If you can hear me, which you probably can't, because I'm probably just talking to myself here, but if you _can _hear me, I need you to know that I will find out what happened to you. I will save you like I always do. I don't know what's wrong with you, and I don't know how to save you but..." He stopped himself._

_He thought he saw a twitch. His eyes flickered towards Arthur's hand which lay beside him. He stared for a few moments hoping it would happen again. When it didn't he continued "I don't how to save you but you have to trust that I will find a way. I will not let you die, Arthur. Your future is too great to end it here. Your life means too much to world for it to be cut short...Your life means -" _

_Gaius walked in and startled Merlin. He raised an eyebrow at the spectacle of the two boys and an emotional-looking Merlin, but sighed and said "Merlin, I think you'll want to see this."_

_Merlin nodded and left his position next to the King momentarily and walked out into the hallway with Gaius. Sir Leon was waiting for him there with a peculiar looking object inside of a case. It was a small object about the size of the tip of Merlin's thumb. It was oval and smooth. It was blood red and looked as if there were things swirling and twirling about inside of it. Leon and Gaius didn't seem to notice the last bit. He must have been able to see the magic, but not anyone else. Merlin reached his fingers towards it, but the moment he did magic blasted it's way to his tips and he had to jerk his hand back and hold it in order to keep himself from exposing his gift to the knight. _

_Leon gave him a funny look, curious as to why Merlin did that. "What happened?"_

_Merlin looked at Gaius but quickly came up with a lie "I just really like shiny things! wouldn't want me stealing that, aye?" He smiled a big convincing smile. _

_Leon smiled awkwardly. "Right..."_

"_Where did this come from?" Merlin asked_

"_We found it in the queens Jewelry" said Gaius. _

_Merlin looked a little bit confused. "And you think this could be the cause of Arthur's condition?"_

_Gaius shrugged. " I can't think of anything else. It is possible that it is some sort of a two-part amulet. It could be casting a spell from this stone and somehow transmitting it to another."_

"_How are we supposed to find the other part?"_

_Gaius gave him a look that Leon couldn't understand. But Merlin knew exactly what Gaius meant. _

_He had to use magic on Arthur to find the source of the magic._

Jack was stuck. He knew exactly where he wanted to go with the story but he didn't know how. He had a couple ideas but he thought they were a waste of his time. he sat on his bed and did what any stumped writer would do. He would start to type a sentence, but erase it. Ten or fifteen times he did that before he finally gave up. He didn't understand where the block was coming from, especially recently. Writing has always been his scapegoat, but as of a couple of weeks ago he had felt rather dead in creativity. For the most part—he was inspired to write this because he actually believed where he was going with this was his best idea yet, but he couldn't find the right way to execute it. He had all of this inspiration and no creativity to play with it.

After a while of contemplation he decided it was a good idea to go outside again—he did like it yesterday, up until he got home, that is. He closed his lap top and but on some athletic wear . He put on some grey sweat pants and black shirt that went an inch or two past his elbow. He put on his trainers, grabbed a water bottle and left for the same park that he was at yesterday. When he got there he notice something. There was the same old man, that he had previously encountered. He smiled at the old fashioned dedication to a specific routine, and continued jogging. He tried to let his surroundings feed him creativity. He tried to let them open his minds to words and ideas that he couldn't remember learning. He tried to take in every small detail that he could spot his eye on, and tried to fixate it into something in his head other than an image. Everything from the type of green on a leaf to where that leaf was facing, or where it came from.

There was so much detail, but at the same time nature was so simple. It put colors where necessary, and it took away color when need be. It was just the basic. Nature was the platform of which everything grew on and changed and became complicated. Nature itself had no more problems that it created for itself, but problems instead built themselves on top of it.

In this he realized his problem

He was trying to dress up the story. He was trying to cover it up with flowers and fancy words, when he realized, he didn't need to do that. All this time he was simply telling the story just thinking that he needed to make it poetry, and that's why it didn't really seem to work. He should have known from the start that this was how he should do it. The story was just coming from him as if he lived it but he halted it to make it sound complicated.

Upon this realization Jack tried to hurry home, but stopped himself when he saw the old man. He looked very lonely. He felt bad for him. He sat there, assuming, everyday alone with no one he can talk to. Jack decided to sit next to him and talk to him.

"Lovely day isn't it?" He said nonchalantly as he sat down.

The man did a double take at him as if he was surprised someone would talk to him. "Y-yes."

"Do you like to come here often?"

"Yes, It's always nice to see the world change."

That was a bit odd, but well, but he guessed he could relate. " I imagine you mean seasons?" He laughed,

The man laughed hollowly, "Yes."

Jack took note that his answers were short and vague. It wasn't that the man didn't want to talk, it was almost like he hadn't talked for so long that he had forgotten how to.

"I'm Jack. What's your name?"

The man hesitated. "Merlin."

Jack smiled and laughed lightly, "No way!"

Merlin didn't respond, he just looked away shyly

"I guess I should clarify why I'm laughing. It's just that I'm an author, you see, and I'm writing this book, and I have this character—his name is Merlin, as well."

Merlin looked up at him and smiled as much as his wrinkled face would allow, "Is that so? It's not a very popular name, is it?"

"No," Jack hesitated on his next idea, but something urged him to go with it, so he did, "I wouldn't mind some company for a cuppa tea if you would like to join me?"

The doddery old figure lit up like he had been waiting for someone to ask him that for a thousand years. "Of course!"

Jack nodded, and laughed.

The two walked together down the street to the nearest café.


End file.
